All That You Are
by CrowAggro
Summary: An eternity of painful truths stretched out before him. Will his punishment ever end, will he ever find redemption and will his family still call him theirs should he make it?


All That You Are

Rated T

A/N: Depressing as shit, enjoy!

…

"You are everything that is wrong with this world. You are the reason children fear to sleep at night and also why some of them will never wake up again. The one justice in this universe is not that you will die an agonising death, but that you will die soon. If you do not die willingly then you will be hunted relentlessly for the rest of your days. Whatever monsters you birth will be rounded up and slaughtered before your very eyes for fear they turn out anything like you. Everything you touch turns to dust and bile. You killed your blood father with cruel intentions and the ones that once named you brother and son would rather see you burn than for you continue to desecrate their love for you.  
"And why did you do this? What was your grand reasoning for defiling worlds and shattering lives? You wanted to prove yourself. You wanted to make someone proud. You were a fool. Who could love a monster like you, truly? When Midgard turns to ash and bone then you will have your kingdom, for that is all you are fit to rule, the broken bodies of the dearly departed. And even then perhaps that is too good for the likes of you. You who would bring ruin and despair to innocent life. You are not strong. You are not beautiful, in any sense of the word. You are hate and fear and weakness and failure personified.  
The only thing you will ever accomplish will be to lower the expectations of those around you. Remember this, long after my voice has gone, remember these words: You will never be loved. You will desire and lust and kill and maim and burn all in the name of love, and for this you will be reviled. Your life is without meaning. The kindest thing you could ever do would be the death of you."

Alone in the darkness his voice echoed, lending itself company. Curled tightly into a ball, face pressed against the cold, cracked floor he rattled his shackled limbs just for another noise besides his own voice. The words he spoke pained him, but he could not stop. Whatever it was that poured from his dry, splintered lips bubbled up from his writhing guts and spilled forth against his will. And yet all he spoke was the truth, for once in his miserable life. His silver tongue had been maimed and chained alongside the rest of him, cursed to speak nothing but the truths he felt deep down about himself.

But he was tired of this, so very tired. Tears streamed constantly down hollowed cheeks, and even though he shouldn't have any more left to shed they never ceased. It was the closest thing to screaming he had.

Occasionally he would receive a visitor, usually his brother. The man would listen to his mindless babbling for a while and then try to talk over it, his deep, resonant voice all but drowning out his own. He had never been more thankful for those small moments when all he could hear was the voice of another.  
He realised then that he must truly love his brother, if only he had realised this sooner. Back on Midgard he had been so wrought with pain and self-loathing he had refused all his brothers claims that they were still family, no matter what.  
He wished that he could tell Thor how he really felt, he was sure his tongue must have let something slip once before, because he couldn't think of anything else that would have caused the ashen expression that had befallen his elder brother. Thor hadn't returned for a while after that. Just looking at the pathetic, shackled, green-eyed God had been too much for his heart to bear, and it was such a big heart to still have enough love left for a brother who had taken every chance to spit on and tear at it.  
That was also why his mother rarely visited him anymore for his incarceration had aged her greatly. The life had withered and died from her eyes and on the rare occasions when she did venture into his cell she never lasted a visit without weeping. She would sit, his babbling head resting on her lap whilst she stroked his hair and whispered kind, meaningless words to drown out his own bitter ones. If he retained any of his wits once he had served his sentence it would be a miracle. And the chances of that grew slimmer with each passing day, not that he had any semblance of time, though sometimes Thor would mention how a week or a month had gone by. Loki couldn't tell if this was out of another of his small kindnesses or if his brother was just being dense. He reckoned the latter.

The scathing chattering haunted him even in sleep. His tongue kept on wagging and his jaw ached something so fierce it forced him to stay awake, he would only fall asleep once he reached the point of exhaustion, and even then he would sometimes wake himself up by biting his own tongue. He wondered why they didn't just cut it out at the root and be done with it. Sometimes he prayed they still might.  
He felt a rough, calloused hand brush his hair, eyes flitting open his brows furrowed as his giant of a father loomed over him. The man should have looked imposing, hateful and fearsome and yet here he stood, stooped and weary, tears brimming at the edge of his mournful, aged eye. An eye that had seen it all, the death of worlds, loved ones perish and now his own son, lost to them all. Frigga had once told the trickster that everything the AllFather did, he did for a reason. Loki prayed that this was true. But he didn't see how, no matter how much he babbled and cried, he was still the same vile creature he had always been. The hatred had died and now he only feared. Somehow, the sight of his father standing over him, looking older and more broken than he had ever seen him before did not ease this fear.  
"My son. Never doubt that I love you. I wish I could end this now, I pray every night that you will return to us one day and that somehow you will find it within yourself to love us. No matter the outcome, we could never hate you. You may be neither my flesh nor my blood but I could not have asked for a finer brother to mine own. Raising you was an honour and a pleasure greater than you will ever know." Odin said, his words dripping with conviction. An admission too beautiful for Loki to go without replying, in his own twisted way.  
"Your family have shown you kindness after endless kindness, and it is this how you repay them? You would kill your own, beloved brother, not out of jealousy or revenge for a self imagined slight, you would do it to wound the man who has given you a life better than you deserve. You are nothing. You will never be worthy of their adoration." The liesmiths tongue spat, to no-one but himself. Sobs began to wrack the pale, fragile body until he felt as if he were choking on his own words. He wrung his bound hands together, the heavy chains clinking and rattling in time with his fitful whimperings. His father remained there for a moment longer, a mighty hand cradling the lost Gods pitiful face before bidding his son goodbye and pitching the cell once again into an endless wail of spiteful words and painful truths.

Years must have passed.  
Thor still made his regular visits, but Loki found it difficult now to focus his mind. His thoughts would wander and his eyes would glaze over, lost in the memories of better days. Occasionally he would be forcibly awakened from these peaceful states as the edge of a cloak dabbed at his slackened mouth, drool pooling on the floor besides him. His brother thought nothing of using his own cape to clean up his little brother's mess and cared not when he cradled the weaker brother to him, the smaller frame hanging limp like a doll leaving slaver all over the Thunder Gods fine armour. Sometimes a pair of lean arms would manage to wrap around the bulkier male causing Thor to freeze, terrified of shattering the fragile embrace. It was in these moments that Loki found true happiness and a small kindling of hope would lighten his chest for a fleeting instant that maybe he was not dead yet.

"Has your other eye failed you now too father, how can you not see that his punishment is done?" Thor cried, his voice cracking under the leaden words.  
"I will hear no more of this!" Odin roared, his voice reverberating around the desolate hall. "Regardless of his heritage he must suffer as all those who would gladly take lives should. I cannot end this now, but be patient, for the day of his freedom is close at hand." The AllFather continued, the roar quickly fading to weariness. Throwing his helmet to the ground by the elder Gods feet Thor turned and stormed out of the room. The two guards by the door felt the brunt of his anger as he all but threw them out of the way as he passed.  
Long after his son had left the room Odin sighed deeply, sorrow welling in the pit of his stomach as a peal of thunder shook the world, lighting lashing the sky leaving gleaming welts in the air. He didn't notice Frigga enter until he felt her take his hands into her own. With his one good eye he met her own, she tried to offer him a gentle smile but the feeling died somewhere along the way.  
"Soon my love. He will be with us again soon." He whispered as his wife dissolved into tears again.

"Brother, I know not if you can hear me, or if you can even tell that I am here anymore, but I thought you should be the first to know. I come bearing joyous news my friend, father says that your release is soon at hand! That day cannot come soon enough, but rest assured that I will be by your side when it does! I returned to Midgard not long since, Jane and her strange little friend Darcy send their best. You have never met them, but I know you would approve. Both are very beautiful and intelligent, Jane especially. Darcy is much like you, she has a wicked tongue and a mischievous streak a mile long. You would love arguing with her. And I know you will refuse to believe this next bit, with good reason, but the Avengers also wish you well. Some more than others admittedly, but they all agreed it would be a waste of a good life for you to remain as you are. They believe in your potential for good, and that must count for something. I love you little brother. There are many that do. Please return to me my Loki for I do not know what I would do without you."

In his mind he was safe. He could be anything he wanted to be, do anything he desired and go anywhere he wished. So why he found himself constantly re-living his younger years he just could not understand. He enjoyed it though, all that warmth and happiness. It felt right. The sounds of his own voice seemed a long way off, occasionally he would catch the edge of a barbed comment and it would cut him deeply, but then Frigga would be there to hold him until the tears stopped. And then Thor would clap him on the back, forcing a drink into his hands and together they would laugh and cheer and re-tell old stories and sing the old, great songs, not caring when they forgot a word of verse. But then he heard something else. It sounded too loud to come from inside his own head so he tried to clamp his hands over his ears, forgetting about the tethers and jerking himself back into the waking world.  
A great weight fell from his wrists and for the first time in what felt like an eternity he could move them freely. A hoarse laugh escaped his throat, cutting off whatever vile words were about to form, rendering his tongue silent. The shock of this sent him reeling backwards into safe, strong arms. He cried out as he was spun around to come face to face with the beaming image of his golden haired brother. Throwing himself forwards on unsteady legs the lie-smith wrapped his arms around Thor's waist, burying his face in the rolling chest, a strangled mixture of laughter and tears pouring from him. Odin and Frigga hovered in the doorway, pride, hope and relief washing over them. Bracing themselves against each other, they watched as their two sons wept and laughed, the burlier of the two swinging his little brother around in a bone crushing embrace.

When the two finally parted, more for air than anything else, the younger recoiled slightly, as if remembering for the first time just what and who he was.  
"I can't do this." He managed weakly, fear lacing every word. "I can't- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He mumbled, his silver tongue struggling for purchase on words that constantly seemed to be just out of his reach.  
"Brother, you can do anything. You have served your sentence; your life is now whatever you make of it. And never doubt that I will be here besides you for as long as you wish it." Thor cried, pulling the ink haired man closer to him.  
"I don't want to be a monster anymore Thor!"  
"You never were Loki. Believe me. You are my closest friend, my brother and a constant headache, but never doubt that you are loved."  
"I love you too, brother." Came the almost inaudible reply.

That moment could have lasted forever, but he heard his own voice ending it before he even realised he was speaking.  
"Now if you can stop crying for just one minute, could I have my armour and helmet back? I fear I have much to make up for." The trickster whispered, the faintest traces of teasing licking at the edges of his words.  
He found himself smiling into the playful taunt and it filled him with a warmth that he had thought long since gone.

Maybe he was broken, perhaps this was all still just a dream and he really was still drooling and wailing on a dark , dirty, floor somewhere in the bowels of his own home. But at this moment everything felt so real and so wonderful, he knew then that he would make damn sure he never felt lost again. He did not have to be a monster, he could redeem himself.  
He could be a hero. He could be _something_.  
He could be good.

…

Sadfic done! I needed that.


End file.
